Spencer Reid-Wayne
by spnfandom8
Summary: Dick opens his mouth to reply, and is interrupted by the presence of one Bruce Wayne, looking dark and broody and like he's in one hell of a mood. "What the fuck are the FBI doing in my foyer?" he questions.


One-Shot

**AN Enjoy. **

"So they are going after the rich people in Gotham?" Morgan asks, his eyebrows pulling together as he leans back in his seat.

"I think so, so far we have 4 dead families, and all they have in common is that they are rich, although always richer than the previous family." I answer, taking a sip of my sweetened coffee.

"Do we have any idea who they could be targeting next?" Prentiss asks the table, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"No, but I have an idea of who they could be building up to killing" Hotch says as he and Gideon enter the room.

"Who?" I ask after a moment of silence.

"The crown prince of Gotham, and his three boys" Hotch says, and I drag a sharp breath in, pulling the attention onto myself.

"Why do you think they are building up to them?" I ask to cover up my screw up.

"They are working their way up the social and economic food chain in Gotham. They have gone from a family that just touches the upper class, and each family they kill simply gets richer. If they continue on this trajectory, they will eventually reach the peak. The peak being the richest man in Gotham, and one of the richest men in the world." Hotch says, explaining his theory.

"How long do you think we have until they get there?" JJ asks, taking a sip of her own coffee.

"I don't know, the murders are getting more erratic, and we still can't predict who exactly they are going after next. The only lines we have to work in, is that they are working their way up. There are just too many wealthy families in Gotham for us to predict who they will go after next" Hotch says, looking like his answer is paining him, not being able to predict who they will go after next.

"What do we do then?" I ask, not entirely sure where to go from here, we have been stuck for the last three days, since the last family was murdered.

There isn't any evidence at the crime scene, we have gone through everything that was at the scene, and worked through our entire suspect list.

All we can do at this point is go back through everything, hoping to see something that we hadn't previously.

"Now, we can go talk to the Wayne's and see if they have anything, a suspect, a theory, anything" Hotch says, sighing as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

"All of us?" I ask, projecting an innocence into my voice.

"Yes, it's been days since we've seen anything new, we can come back to this with fresh eyes when we get back. Everyone needs a break from looking through the same evidence." He says tiredly.

We arrive at Wayne manor about a half an hour later, and i'm simply hoping that my family will at least try to keep my secret, and not out me to my team.

"Holy shit, this place is massive, and creepy" Morgan says, looking up at the daunting manor, the shadows lengthening as dusk falls.

"How do we know that someone besides whoever opened the gate is even home?" Prentiss asks as Hotch reaches out and rings the doorbell.

"We don't" He says, stepping back.

The door opens then, and my eyebrows crease as I take in the person who opened the door, the messy hair with a white streak through it, the guns holstered on both of his thighs, despite the lack of a shirt.

"Who the fuck are you?" he asks crassly, making me wince.

"Agent Hotchner with the BAU unit of the FBI" Hotch says, obviously confused, and continuing with his eternally professional attitude.

"We are looking to speak with Bruce Wayne, is he here at the moment?" Hotch says, but he's ignored when Jason's gaze lands on me, and I can tell from the look on his face that he is most definitely not going to keep my relation to them a secret.

"Spence" he greets, tilting his head to the side to see me through the rest of my team, seeing as I had placed myself in the back of the group.

"Jason, I thought you didn't like staying at the Manor?" I ask, dropping all pretenses as I nudge my way to the front of the group.

"I don't. I got a little banged up the other night, and Dick won't stay the hell out of my apartment when i'm injured. The only way to keep him from following me, is to go to him." Jason says with a roll of his eyes, and from where i'm now standing I can see the injuries.

His ribs are wrapped and there is a bandage over his right bicep, stitches over a cut down his forearm, a bruise blossoming over his cheek, originating from either his jaw or his cheek bone. There are a multitude of small cuts and bruises over the rest of his torso and arms.

"That doesn't look like something that Dick would bother you too much about" I say, cataloging the injuries as we stand there, both looking each other over for signs of either of us not being well.

"No, but the stab wound that narrowly missed my spine, and my lung, is" he says, and I realise that the bandage must be underneath the wrap for his ribs.

"How do you know this man Reid?" Hotch questions from next to me, bringing me back to reality, a reality where my team is standing behind me while I speak with my older brother, an older brother that they know nothing about.

"I um-" I stutter, Jason taking over quickly.

"We're friends, since Spence was 12" Jason says shortly, finally stepping back and inviting us into the house.

"And you didn't think to mention that?" Morgan says suspiciously, turning his gaze onto me.

"I didn't think he'd be here" I answer, listening for the sounds that would let me know that anyone else was home.

"Alf is visiting family in England, Bruce is working, Goldie, Timmers, and the Demon are around here somewhere" Jason says, answering my unspoken question as he leads all of us into the sitting room right off of the foyer.

"I was wondering how you got away with having your guns on you in the house" I say, sending a pointed look towards the guns holstered on his thighs.

"Gotta protect myself against the fucking Demon" he says, making my smile.

"Damian hasn't tried to kill any of us in years" I tell him, amusement shining through.

"Tell that to the fucking knife lodged into the wall where I was sitting yesterday" he says as he flops down onto the couch.

"I wasn't trying to kill you Todd, I was simply warning you to keep your grubby hands away from my things" a polished voice announces as Damian melts out of the shadows in the hallway, a scowl set on his face as he comes to a stop in front of me, tilting his head to the side as he takes me in.

"Wardrobe hasn't changed, neither have your sleeping patterns. Your job has taken a toll, you seem, happy though." he says, voicing his observations.

"What the hell Reid? How do you know the Waynes?" Morgan asks then, interrupting what I was about to say.

"I suppose you still haven't told them about your childhood" Damian says, looking slightly bored and most definitely not interested, his hands in his pockets as he takes in my team, all standing a few paces behind me.

"No, I haven't" I say, hoping he understands what i'm trying to convey with my tone.

"We've been telling you to for a year now" he answers, his tone and face blank as he speaks, not wanting me to know what he's thinking underneath the surface emotions.

"I know" I answer.

"We are here to ask Bruce a few questions" I say then, and my words end up coming out robotically due to the fact that I called my dad Bruce.

"He's working, you may speak to me or Drake though" he says, keeping his attention solely on me.

"Both, please" I reply, and he nods, striding confidently from the room, no doubt to go get Tim for us.

It's then that I turn to my team, ignoring the amused looks that Jason is throwing us as he watches from the couch.

"Do you remember my mother?" I ask hesitantly, knowing that leaving them in the dark now will only lead to more backlash later on.

"Yes" Hotch answers, the rest of them nodding along.

"When I was 12, my mom was struggling. And long story short, I met a man, who realised that my mom needed help, and he got it for her, and when my biological dad refused to take me in, he did. I hadn't even realised that the man was Bruce Wayne until we arrived here, and he raised me from then on. Since he never made me go to Gala's, or out to press conferences, it was easy to bury the fact that he had raised me. Virtually nobody made the connection between me and them." I tell them, watching the shock and disbelief pass over their faces.

"If they were smarter, they would have, seeing as we beat up anyone who tried to bully you, and took turns driving you to school, and teased you mercilessly." Jason pipes up from where he's sprawled across the couch, his eyes focussed on us.

"Are you seriously telling us that you were adopted by Bruce Wayne when you were twelve?" Morgan asks a few seconds later, his annoyance visible in his stance, and his voice, and his face.

"Um, yes?" I answer, wincing at the looks on my teammates faces.

"And you didn't find any of this information pertinent to the case?" Hotch asks roughly, and I watch how Jason tenses out of the corner of my eye, instinctively wanting to come to my defense.

"No. I don't tell people about my childhood for a reason, neither does Jason. Because if you think that being the son of one of the richest and most influential men in the world is something that would get me anything aside from kidnapped or killed, you'd be wrong. I love my family, but being connected to them would get me nothing but hurt." I say, finishing up my short rant as Damian and Tim come into the room, Dick trailing behind, at least until he sees me, then he's launching himself at me in a smother-y hug.

"Oh my god. You haven't been home in forever! I missed you kiddo" Dick says, pulling back far enough to run his eyes over every inch of my body, checking for inconsistencies or injuries.

"I'm fine Dick, and I was up here less than a month ago" I tell him with an amused look, pulling back far enough to greet Tim as well, this time with a shared smile and a much more subdued hug.

"Damian said that the FBI was here to talk to us?" Tim asks a moment later, raising a curious brow at my team, who are all staring at us with varying degrees of betrayal in their gazes.  
"There is a serial killer working his way up the social and economic ladder of Gotham. The Wayne's happen to be at the top of the ladder. We came to ask if you guys or dad had any theories or suspects." I tell him, not missing the physical reactions of my team to me calling Bruce dad.

"Yes. Bruce put some people on it when it came up on his radar. They called a few minutes ago to tell me that they have the man in custody, as well as the last people he kidnapped. We were under the impression that he had killed them already, they are in the hospital now though. You should be getting a phone call from Gordon shortly." Tim tells me, and honestly, i'm not even surprised. I had figured that coming to Gotham for a case would be pretty much useless, because anything high profile enough to call the FBI in on, the Bat's would already have under control.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with Jason's, predicament, would it?" I ask, knowing not to put it past Jason to get himself seriously injured on a case that the FBI, his family, and the cops were working on. Where he had backup in spades, and instead tried to do it himself and got severely injured because of it.

"No, that one is all on him" Dick says, casting a dark look at his younger brother, who raises an eyebrow in return, practically daring him to say something.

Dick opens his mouth to do just that, and is interrupted by the presence of one Bruce Wayne, looking dark and broody and like he's in one hell of a mood.

"What the fuck are the FBI doing in my foyer?" he questions, cocking his head as he stares at me, obviously unhappy with my not having told him that I was in town. Not that I believed that he wouldn't know for very long. Half an hour at the most.

He turns his attention away from me and to my brothers, and I know that eventually his attention will be back on me, and it most likely won't be pleasant.

"Jason, you still have a fever. Upstairs, rest. Tim, you haven't slept in three days, I cleared your schedule, go eat something and then go to bed. Damian, you have homework and training, go. Dick, study for the detectives exam, I know you haven't yet, and you take the exam tomorrow morning. Go." Bruce says, dismissing one after the other, with minimal grumbling, and a few "good lucks" thrown my way as they trudge to their tasks.

Bruce's cold and emotionless mask isn't easy to see through, and I can see my whole team struggling as he stares each of them down for a moment before casting his full attention my way.

"You've been avoiding me" he says, and I nod.

"Just because I don't agree with your career choice doesn't mean i'm not proud of you, and it most definitely doesn't mean I don't want to see you. I would understand your behavior if you didn't have someone like Jason in front of you. I do not approve of what he chose to do with his life, but he is still my son, I am still proud of the man he grew up to be, I still love him, still want him safe and to see him when possible. So I don't comprehend why you've been avoiding me since joining the BAU, you knew I wouldn't approve, but you have Jason to show that I wouldn't have treated you, or loved you any differently because of it. I may be a cold son of a bitch, but nothing will ever change the way I see my sons. Nothing will ever change my love for you all." Bruce says, his voice flat, words measured, calculated.

"Logically, I know that. It's just…" I trail off, unsure how to explain my reasoning for avoiding him for the last few months, even when I came to the Manor last month, I did it while Bruce was off world with the league.

"It's just that even knowing that, and even having me as an example, didn't really ease his fears, because look at how fucked up the relationship I had with all of you was, for fucking years. Jesus, we were about as fucked as they come. And just cause' it all worked out in the end, doesn't mean that the kid didn't have any right to worry, cause it took a long fuckin time for us to get here. And you're right, you are a cold son of a bitch, and reading you is about as easy as walking is for a newborn, even to the kids you raised. So maybe you should look at it from that point of view, the kid was scared that you would freak, or that you wouldn't look at him the same, or that you would yell and scream and basically be an asshole. Which isn't out of the realm of possibility, you can't fucking expect us to know when you've figured out how to deal with new emotions and slipping control. Especially not the kid, who, unlike the rest of us, doesn't like pushing your buttons and making you lose that death grip you keep on your emotions." Jason says, apparently not having actually left, just lingered at the top of the stairs.

"Thank you, for that lovely insight, Jason. Now go lay down." Bruce says, and Jason laughs, saluting me as he turns on his heel and makes his way up to his room.

"Is he correct?" Bruce asks a moment later, and I nod, unsure how he'll react to that.

"In that case. I apologise, I should have made it clear that while I do not like your chosen career path, it doesn't change anything. I still want to see you as often as I can, I still love you, and I am proud of you, for doing what you want to do, and not letting me tell you what to do with your life. Even if I would have preferred that you did." Bruce says, finally letting an emotion enter his voice and make an appearance on his face.

I'm not sure what to say to that, especially not with my whole team watching the interaction, so i'm glad when Bruce takes the initiative and envelopes me in a hug, a hug that screams safety and protection, just as it always has.

It was an unfounded fear, that his hugs, too, might change because of what I chose to do for a living, and I melt into this one, not caring that my team is staring at me.

"Yeah. this is going to need explaining" Morgan says, and I smile into Bruce's shoulder, relieved, actually, that they know my secret, and that I can finally tell them all the shit I get up to with my family. That I'm not really the loner they think I am. That I have people that they are actually surprisingly similar to, and who I think they will get along with.

**AN Thoughts? Good? Bad? Meh? Lemme know what you think. :) **


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